a fic by Mystery Self-Lover! : You Cast Me Away
Title: You Cast Me Away
Rating: R
Groups/Pairings: V6, Sakamoto/Okada
Word Count: 5917
Summary: The mullet spirit returns, and it is less than pleased with reality and feels revenge is in order, and that revenge is best fed by devastation.
Warnings: Character deaths, suicide, murder, spirits, some mutilation.
Notes: I have questioned my sanity often while writing this, but I still went along with it, and I’d like to thank my beta for the encouragement I received. Anyway, if you don’t like your idols dying then I would say not to read. Anyway, to anyone this disturbs, I’m terribly sorry, I just like this kind of shit. Enjoy~
“You cast me away!” The words had plagued Okada all day with how much anger and spite they contained. They’d come from his dream the night before, when they spilled from the mouth of his younger self. His younger self, that looked strangely like he had during the shoot for Feel Your Breeze. Holding his bag from the convenience store down the street where he’d been dropped off after his filming, he began scratching his left elbow a bit as he thought about it. He felt ridiculous that he even had a black fedora charmed against spirits in the first place, but it wasn’t so ridiculous that it helped him feel secure, was it? He was just glad nothing had happened during filming.
Turning to his apartment block, he was too pre-occupied to notice the woman walking towards him. He walked straight into her, and he mumbled an apology and reached to make sure the hat was still there. He went on and locked himself into his apartment. There was no real reason to leave.
---
The next morning he woke up with a groan. Even though he hadn’t had a dream, which he realized was because the fedora had stayed on his head, it was less than a good sleep. For the first few hours he’d been waking up every so often with fear in his heart that the hat had come off, until the final three hours where exhaustion had taken enough of a toll that he could no longer, no matter how hard he tried, stay awake or wake up often enough.
Rolling off the hammock he’s fallen asleep on, he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like absolute crap. Running his hands over his face, he trudged over to the sink. There was only recording today. Surely he didn’t have to be immaculate for this. In the end, he wound up only washing his face and brushing his teeth outside of his change of clothes. Making sure his dog, Satsuma had enough food; he tightly fixed the fedora to his head and grabbed his bag as he went to meet his ride.
---
He was the first one of the day to have a recording session, so he relaxed around the recording crew. It was better to not let anyone on to anything bothering him. Then he’d have to answer a whole slew of unnecessary questions, and while he knew them all, none of them were tuned into him enough that they could see anything under the surface, and besides, it was still early morning.
It was a few hours later when his session ended for the day. He wasn’t the only one scheduled for that day, though he did have the longest slot, with it being one of his days off from filming. Looking out to the couch, he spied Sakamoto sitting, reading. He was the next to record, and Okada planned on hanging around for it. They were going to eat afterwards. Walking out of the sound booth, he sat down on the couch to listen back.
Satisfied, he grinned and said, “Thank you for your hard work.”
Morimoto, who was in charge of the sound recording, nodded and said the same to Okada. He then turned to Sakamoto and said, “We just have to reset, and then we’ll be ready to go.”
Sakamoto looked up and said, “Thank you,” with a smile as he and Okada watched Morimoto roll off to the other side.
“So, what are you recording for today?” Okada asked, poking him with his toe.
Sakamoto looked at him from the corner of his eyes, and sighing, handed him what he’d been looking over. When it had been taken from him, he sat back and observed Okada reading.
“Oh, you’re recording your next solo today?” Okada remarked. “What kind of song is it going to be?”
“You know you can just read it to find out? Right?” Sakamoto said as he shook his head.
Okada, grinning at him, poked him with his foot again, saying, “I know, but I’d rather you explain it to me.”
“I see. Well, you’re just going to have to wait and see,” he said, rubbing Okada’s shoulder a bit. With a bit of a pat though, he looked at Morimoto gesturing at him to go over. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s recording time.”
Okada smiled as he watched him go before leaning over and grabbing the book he’d brought along. Stretching out on the couch, he began reading, though it was not long before he fell asleep.
---
It was a couple of hours later when Sakamoto woke Okada up. It was time for their planned lunch, which, after taking in Okada’s appearance, ended up being a lunch at Sakamoto’s place. Homemade pancakes to be exact, as they were quick and easy.
Setting down the finished plates on the tables, Sakamoto looked Okada over before digging in. “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Okada only looked at him surprised. He was a successful actor and no one at the recording had noticed, but then again, they had known each other for over fifteen years now. Sighing, he poked at his pancakes a little and mumbled, “I didn’t sleep very well last night is all.” Finally taking a bite, he finished with a, “Delicious.”
Sakamoto eyed him and took another bite before saying, “I see. Is there a reason or have you just been working too hard?”
“No, not really work.” Okada decided to pause there and continue to eat until he couldn’t hear the sound of eating across from him. Smiling to himself, he said, “It’s just because of a bad dream. You worry too much.”
“I don’t, and I really hope you’re going to take off that hat.” Sakamoto said, shaking his head before he continued to eat.
Okada chuckled a tiny bit before looking at him and saying, “Nope.”
There ended up being no response to that, and even through the dishes he said nothing. It wasn’t until an hour into their respective reading time on the couch (it was Okada’s idea at first and Sakamoto wasn’t adverse to the silence, although often enough it became Okada’s reading time and Sakamoto’s baseball watching time) that Sakamoto looked up from what he was doing to say something.
“Seriously, you’re indoors. Take it off.”
“Nope.” Okada said with a grin, “Not going to happen.”
“Fine then…” Sakamoto said as he looked back at his book with a frustrated expression. He flipped his page harshly, and then a couple more until he lunged at the hat, which he missed due to Okada rolling off the couch.
Okada looked at him, amused, before backing off a bit more. “You are far too slow, old man.”
Sakamoto just rolled his eyes and smiled as he said, “Better a wise old man than a kid with no manners.”
Okada scoffed and returned to his book. Neither of them moved for what had to have been five minutes before Okada broke the silence with a, “I’m still not taking the hat off,” which in turn caused Sakamoto to sputter a little from amusement.
---
It was that night, while they were tucked away in bed, that the unfortunate happened, and as soon as it did, Okada knew. Even though he was asleep, he knew the hat, which he had convinced Sakamoto he did indeed need to wear to bed with promises and bribery, had come off of his head.
The signs were all there, and the most glaring sign of all was the image of himself from the days of Feel Your Breeze that was standing before him. An image that looked less than pleased with him, giving him the coldest and most evil grin his face could possibly muster.
“So, you thought you could keep me away?” The voice didn’t match the face at all.
“Well, I had hoped. I should have gotten a monk…” Okada was mentally kicking himself. There were steps to taking care of spirits, but did he pay attention to them? No, not this time, not when it really mattered, though it wasn’t like this could possibly be life or death. It was a spirit of the mullet after all.
The wrong-voiced Okada started pacing, almost staring at Okada in a feral way. “So, you do know what happens to spirits who wait, right?” He sneered, “they become spiteful as they deteriorate. Thinking, wishing even, for the happier times they could have had.”
Okada stared at the spirit with wide eyes as it paced back and forth, before suddenly going still. Still, aside from its head, which turned to stare at Okada with a deadly gaze.
“We were in love!” it shouted from where it stood, shoulders moving quickly with the breaths it was taking.
Okada only stared in disbelief. That wasn’t exactly how he remembered it, but it was definitely a far more peaceful time, when they lived in harmony, but he wasn’t too sure it was love. Was it love?
“He took you away from me.” The spirit stepped closer as he spoke. “And he should really pay for his crimes.”
Okada stepped back and put up his hands as he said, “Hold on! He took me away from you?” He really couldn’t believe what the spirit was saying, “I’m not the one who latched onto the other here.”
The spirit stopped moving as he said, “Oh, but he did.” He continued on his path to Okada after regaining himself. “And now he’s going to pay.”
Grabbing onto the collar of Okada’s shirt, he placed his hand on Okada’s face. At this point, Okada knew he’s lost all reason as he felt himself spiraling to the smallest corner of his mind. The corner where he was only aware of the paces his body would be going through, but was in no way in control of it. The spirit was most certainly out for revenge, and he had regressed enough that rage was all that was left in him.
---
Once the events in the dream world were finished, Okada’s physical form snapped its eyes open as the spirit turned his head slowly to look at the man sleeping beside him. Grinning, he pulled aside the covers and looked to the alarm clock. It was only quarter after five in the morning. A perfect time to start revenge, the spirit thought. The reason why it did though was because of the access he had to Okada’s memories. Possession had its uses, even if it was to just gain information from someone. Either way, the spirit grinned to himself as he cast one last look to the sleeping form. It was time for revenge.
---
The spirit sat at the golf course, quietly, in the bushes. It was most certainly Go’s golf day if Okada’s memory was anything to go by. He’d gotten there around six, though he’d hidden so he wasn’t recognized at all. That would be bad and ruin the finale, really.
He twirled the knife he’d taken from Sakamoto’s kitchen on the way out in his gloved hands. He wasn’t a stupid spirit after all, and apparently Okada knew a thing or two about the human body. It was almost as if he’d had a level up while the spirit was locked away.
Looking out, he saw a small man approaching the ninth hole. It was most definitely Go that approached. Standing up and slipping the knife away so that Go couldn’t see it, the spirit went to where he was setting up.
“Go! You’re golfing today?”
Startled, Go turned around to look at him. Puzzled, he said, “What are you doing here at this time of day?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go golfing, but I was taking a break under the trees when I saw you come up.” He turned slightly to acknowledge the bushes from where he came.
Go looked at him in a quizzical manner before turning back to finish setting up. “If you’d like, we could finish together. Go grab your clubs.”
As Go said this, the spirit had started to eye to bag beside Go. The club was an all more tempting weapon, and a fun one at that. Knives were so last year, and so he shuffled closer to the bag, eying up the nine iron. He then said, “I’ll go get them in a moment. You may as well go.”
Go just nodded and lined his shot up as the spirit began to slide the nine iron out of the golf bag. Watching as Go swung his club, he lined up his shot as well. Baseball formation was really improper with a golf club, but damn, if it wasn’t exactly what he needed.
As Go watched his ball sail down the fairway, the spirit swung and connected right at the base of his skull, and as Go began falling, paralyzed, he swung again, this time striking the side of Go’s head. A dull crack could be heard. Go fell to the ground, and the spirit continued to swing, the next few hits smashing in the back of his skull with the clear crack of bone seeming to shatter. Sometimes early morning golf can be a good thing, if not just for the lack of witnesses.
Once Go’s face was unrecognizable, he threw the club aside and brought out the knife. Carefully he removed the finger with the tattoo, a trophy so to speak, and it would work well as a threat.
---
When the spirit returned to Sakamoto’s place, he was glad to see him asleep. This made his plan run much smoother. Looking at his hands, he decided a shower would probably be in order, if the blood was anything to go by. Turning around and heading to the shower, he made sure to grab a towel carefully before remembering the finger in his pocket. It wouldn’t stay so well in there, so he went to the kitchen and found a bag and some ice. Putting the finger and ice into the bag, he set it in the fridge and headed back to have his shower.
As he stood in the shower and watched as the blood slowly ran into the drain, he grinned. He had this planned out relatively carefully. Sure, his revenge wasn’t purely against Sakamoto, but it was much more fun to hurt the one who loves and competes for that special person’s attention. He knew he was hurting Okada in the long run, but that was okay to him after all the time locked away, and besides, he was going to make that all better soon enough.
When he was done and dressed, he walked around the kitchen, looking at the knives. He’d already put back the one he’d used, exactly as it was when he returned, and there were so many other choices of knives he could use. Going through them all, his eyes eventually fell to the tuna knife. It didn’t look overly used, and it definitely looked like it could hurt something. Picking it up, he examined it, taking the flexibility and blade into account. Satisfied, he walked to the bedroom. It was time to wake up the sleeping beauty.
Sidling up to the bed, he tucked the knife in the back of his so that he still had use of two hands. Brushing back some hair from Sakamoto’s face, he leaned down and whispered, “Maa-kun, time to get up.”
The reaction he received wasn’t a very happy one, as Sakamoto turned his face away from him and tried to roll away a bit. The spirit was having none of that, and whined, “Maa-kun,” again as he started to poke his cheek. It worked, as Sakamoto cracked open an eye, purely for the art of side-eyeing him, trying to stop him. The spirit didn’t stop, and kept going until a croaking sound was heard, and so the spirit looked at him and asked, “What? What was that?”
Sakamoto, now with both eyes open, rolled his eyes and propped himself up as he said, “I said, what? What do you need?”
“I need to go home.” He stood up a bit straighter to continue, “and I’d love it if you’d drive me there.”
Sakamoto sat up more and leaned forward so he wasn’t using his hands to prop himself up. With his voice still croaking, he said, “I suppose I can. Especially now that you’ve taken off the hat.” He swung his legs off the bed as the spirit walked away to the door, backwards. “Just let me get ready.”
It was a few minutes later when Sakamoto eventually appeared dressed and with glasses. The spirit looked at him and smiled, grabbing his bag, which he had placed the finger and knife in. He headed to the door and opened it, singing, “After you.”
Sakamoto just eyed him as he walked by. Someone clearly woke up happy or something.
---
It was still early morning when they reached Okada’s apartment. Sakamoto went up after being invited. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to drive back just yet, anyway.
Sakamoto was mostly humming to himself as he made some coffee for the two of them. It was the first thing he’d found in Okada’s cupboard, and it was a bit too early for life that day, but he really need to get the guy some tea. Because of this, he didn’t notice the other body coming up behind him until the tuna knife was to his throat.
“I’m going to ask you very kindly, Maa-kun, to bend down and open the doors to under the sink,” said the spirit.
Sakamoto froze. Out of all the things in life that he expected to happen, this was definitely not one of them. Shaking out of it, he did exactly what was instructed as he eyed the knife, a knife he was almost certain was his own. When he opened the doors, he heard the click of the handcuff going around his right wrist. The spirit was moving quickly, as his hand was soon jerked towards the piping and attached with the other cuff.
The spirit leaned back, keeping the knife trained on Sakamoto as he looked at the things in the cupboard. Some of this could actually hurt his vessel, which would be really counterproductive. Grabbing one of the bags kept under there, he placed everything in it as quickly as he could with one hand and slid it across the floor. Satisfied, he smiled at Sakamoto and left him sitting there as he walked over to the bag he’d brought back home.
The spirit set the knife beside the bag as he reached in, coming out with the finger on ice. Taking it to Sakamoto, he held the finger so that the tattoo could be clearly seen by him.
“Okada, what the hell are you doing?” said Sakamoto, his face full of rage and concern.
The spirit laughed as he clutched the finger away to place it in the fridge. “Oh, nothing much. Just something I should have done a long time ago.” Closing the fridge with finesse, he smirked at him. “And the news won’t be out for another couple of hours, so…” Okada said this and then walked over to the bag and knife.
Once he’d placed the knife in the bag, he turned around and his eyes landed on the coffee that was done. He felt Sakamoto’s glare on him the whole time as he grabbed the first mug and filled it with coffee. Crouching down, he set it down beside Sakamoto and patted him on the head, saying, “Anyway, I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up for me.”
He then grabbed his bag and Sakamoto’s vehicle keys that had been set near the door and left with a soft click of the door.
---
Parking on a residential street, the spirit climbed out of the vehicle. It was nice that Okada had group members that were very strict on their schedules. Walking along the sidewalk, he grasped the bag a little tighter with a strange buzz of excitement. The next victim should be along any moment, and the fact that it was daylight in the middle of a populated area was extremely exciting, although the amount of people out and about at the moment wasn’t very high at all. Most were probably at work. He needed to find a place to wait.
Eventually he found a nice shaded area to sit down near the edge of the path. Removing the knife from the bag, he set it down next to him and shifted the bag to cover it just enough that it wouldn’t be too horribly noticeable. Waiting wasn’t too difficult; he’d done his fair share after all.
It was around fifteen minutes later when a recognisable man started to approach him along the path. Grabbing the knife, he crouched over to a slightly covered area, and as the man passed, he swung the blade and struck the back of his ankles. Ken staggered for a few seconds before going down. Once he was down, the spirit grabbed his calf and dragged the man to where he was, flipping him over once he was close enough. He revelled in the look of fear on Ken’s face, and his expression of pure speechlessness. Holding his finger to his lips, he smiled.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ken yelled.
The spirit’s smile only grew more as he drew the knife from beside him to a backhand formation saying, “Oh, nothing much, just out for a little,” he swung and sliced his neck, “revenge of sorts.”
He fished the keys for Sakamoto’s car out of his pocket and threw them beside Ken’s body. Removing his sweater, he rolled the knife up in it and mixed his gloves in with it. Strolling over to his bag, he stuffed it in and walked down the street casually, catching a cab a few blocks over.
---
The scene the spirit returned to was amusing to him. Satsuma, the missing in action dog, had been found, and best of all, was keeping his victim company. Setting the bag down, just out of Sakamoto’s reach, he went to grab a towel.
When he made his return to the kitchen, he smiled his best smile at Sakamoto as he approached him.
“Why are you doing this, Okada?” Sakamoto asked with an angry voice.
Satsuma, becoming aware of the approaching man stood up and began snapping at the spirit, backing away.
“Apparently even Satsuma-chan doesn’t want to be around you, which is unusual to say the least…” Sakamoto looked at the man who was now looking him right in the eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”
The spirit only grinned at him as he picked up the coffee mug sitting on the floor before walking back to his bag. Satsuma took this moment to return to the man on the floor as she eyed the spirit carefully.
“Oh, for a reason, but I think it’s okay to not say it.” He pulled out the sweater from his bag and began to unroll it, “Although, you could ask Ken-chan.” Pulling out the knife, he looked at it thoughtfully for a moment before breaking out into a laugh. “On second thought, I don’t think you’ll be getting an answer out of him today.”
Sakamoto stared at him with wide eyes and he cleaned the knife with the towel. Gathering Satsuma in his arm, he looked at the dog for a moment before looking back at Okada, saying, “You’ve gone insane.”
The spirit’s eyes only grew wider, much like his smile, as he continued to clean the knife until a good portion of the blood was off of it. “Perhaps, but at least I’ll be available when it matters,” he said, inspecting the blade. Satisfied, he put on his best impersonation of how Okada usually acted and turned to Sakamoto. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and get ready for the emergency meeting that should be happening.”
---
It was about two hours later when the emergency meeting was called. The spirit was careful to take the call where it would be silent, and quickly headed off once the location was decided. He drove to the meeting, taking the tuna knife and setting it on the back seat, as well as a paring knife, which he pocketed with a small guard on.
As he walked into the meeting he was met with the grim faces of Inocchi and Nagano. Sitting down, he looked them both in the eyes before settling on Okada’s hands.
“Have you been able to get a hold of Sakamoto-san?” Inocchi said, addressing them both, who only shook their heads in response. “I see… Hopefully we can get a hold of him soon.”
Nagano nodded and then began talking as well. “Okada-kun, Inocchi and I were talking, and we agreed nothing would be said until the press conference.”
The spirit nodded, still looking at Okada’s hands. “I see. The news hasn’t been released as of yet, has it?”
“No, it hasn’t,” Nagano said. “They’re still trying to figure out what exactly happened to the two of them. For now, we’ve decided to go with announcing their passing only until we have more information.”
Inocchi then said, “We’ve also decided to follow through with the album, but only if that’s all right with you and Sakamoto-san.” Inocchi quickly glanced at Nagano with a concerned face. “That is, if we can find Sakamoto-san.”
The spirit only nodded, eyes still not moving up. Sitting still for a few moments, he muttered an, “I understand.” Which was then followed with him saying, “I think I’m going to go home for now.”
Pushing back his chair, he stood up and bowed slightly. Inocchi and Nagano exchanged looks for a split second before Inocchi stood up as well, saying, “I’m going to come with you. It’s not good to be alone.”
The spirit looked at him and smiled softly. “Thank you, Inocchi.” He said, right before turning around and smiling an ugly smile of anticipation.
---
Inocchi knew something was wrong a few minutes into the car ride. Okada had missed any possible turns to get to his home easily, and seemed to almost be heading out of the area.
“If you don’t mind my asking, where exactly are we going?” Inocchi looked at him a bit worried.
The spirit perked up at this and threw on his best surprised face. Quickly glancing at the man in the passenger’s seat, he said, “Oh, I thought we could go to the beach first.” He paused as he changed lanes. “It seems like a nice send off for them.”
Inocchi nodded as he thought about it. “That makes sense.”
The spirit smiled and the car was filled with silence for the rest of the ride. When they finally reached the beach, Inocchi headed to the sand first. The spirit on the other hand went and retrieved the tuna knife from the boot.
Walking behind Inocchi, he tried his best to hide the massive knife as he went to catch up. When he did, he grabbed the back of the collar of Inocchi’s jacket, as he slid the knife to settle in front of Inocchi’s Adam’s apple. Applying pressure to the back of his neck, Inocchi kneeled, and the spirit came up behind him, Inocchi’s back on his body as he popped his head round to be able to look at his face a bit better, again, with the ugly smile of pure joy on his face.
“I bet you never saw this coming,” he whispered into Inocchi’s ear, pulling the paring knife from his pocket and sliding the guard off the best that he could.
Inocchi looked at him from the corners of his eyes. He really didn’t see that coming, and if anything, that really scared him about as much as this situation right now. He didn’t even know what to say.
The paring knife flashed before Inocchi’s eyes as the spirit said, “Now, you’re not smiling at all right now.” He let out what seemed to be a frustrated sigh. “Which is unfortunate. You’re far more beautiful with a smile.”
The spirit brought the paring knife to the left edge of Inocchi’s lips, and digging in, he dragged it up to make it look like half of a smile. For the left side, Inocchi yelled for the first few moments, but for the right, as Okada did the exact same thing, he did nothing but breathe in sharply. The pain even opening his mouth caused at the moment was close to unbearable. He kept his eyes a trained as he could on the knives before him, until the paring knife disappeared from view, although the sound that followed added up to it being thrown.
“Now, Inocchi, that’s much, much better, and I’m sure death would love to see your beautiful grin.” Taking the knife, the spirit sliced open Inocchi’s throat and pushed him into the sand, watching the substance begin to almost soak up the blood.
---
After standing at the beach for a few more moments, the spirit had decided to head back to Okada’s apartment. It was still strangely quiet, his victim still cuffed to the pipe under the sink. Why wasn’t he fighting? No, he was if his wrist was anything to go by. It was beginning to bleed slowly from the strain, specifically from rotating and attempting to break free.
“You know, you guys are extremely easy to take out,” said the spirit, the only response being a glare from Sakamoto. “There’s a press conference tonight that absolutely no one is going to attend. You’ll probably still be tied up here, and three are already dead.”
That caused Sakamoto to react, as he yelled, “What?”
“Oh, yes. The smiling man, he’s gone now.” The spirit began running the tap in the washroom. When he was done, he turned to him and said, “Smiling forever in death, really. It’s almost creative in a way.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this at all,” Sakamoto said.
The spirit didn’t answer right away, as he wandered the house, getting the place in a bit of order. Fixing a pillow here, a book there. He did finally respond when he found himself standing in front of Sakamoto. Looking down, he said, “It’s because of you.”
Sakamoto’s face was a delight to the spirit, full of confusion, almost innocent in a way. In fact, it made him want to kick him in the face so much he did exactly that. He kept on kicking until blood was running down Sakamoto’s face. Only then was he satisfied as he kicked his head once more, slamming it into the edge of the cupboard doorway, knocking him out.
Huffing in pleasure, the spirit turned around and found himself facing a very angry French bulldog. The dog proceeded to tear into his leg, and he found himself kicking it off into a chair.
Satsuma slinked off to where Sakamoto was knocked out, choosing not to confront the spirit again, but growling whenever he was in view.
After getting cleaned up and ready for the conference, Okada left, taking a chef’s knife with him.
---
The spirit was extremely early for the press conference, and so he headed to their prepared waiting room. Taking out the chef’s knife, he started to twirl and spin it with his fingers as he stared. It was something to do, and Nagano wouldn’t be there for a little while, and so he waited.
It was about a half hour later when Nagano eventually shuffled inside, and the spirit, upon hearing the door click, hid the knife behind him on the chair. Touching his fingertips together, he brought them up to his mouth and stared at the door from the tops of his eyes.
“Ah! Okada-kun, you’re already here,” Nagano said to him with a small smile.
The spirit nodded at him, not saying anything as he observed him move from the door to a chair across the room from him.
“Have you heard anything from Sakamoto-kun? I haven’t been able to get a hold of him at all,” said Nagano, as he began fiddling with his phone a little. “Inocchi too. I haven’t talked to him since he left with you.”
The spirit nodded in understanding. “I haven’t been able to phone Sakamoto-san either, and the last I saw of Inocchi was when I was driving home and he came with me.”
Nagano nodded and sighed. He figured perhaps they were just busy, although that didn’t stop him from worrying. Flipping open his phone, he looked back down and began going through his contacts. It was this moment the spirit decided to strike.
Sitting up slowly, he kept his eyes on Nagano as he grabbed the knife. After that, he moved no less than quickly, jerking Nagano’s head up by the forehead and placing the knife to his throat. The spirit smiled as he dug in and sliced across it, taking in the look of fear upon Nagano’s face as he cut into the muscles and tendons, as well as part the bone of which lay directly beneath his jaw line.
Standing back for a moment, the spirit watched as Nagano’s arms fell to the side. Not quite satisfied, he shifted the knife in his fingers so the blade pointed down and slammed it into his chest, straight to the heart as he heard the cracking and snapping of bones and cartilage. He left the knife.
Looking around, he knew his plan was almost complete. Wiping his hands quickly, he ran out the door and looked at the man standing at the door, pausing. His eyes flickered to the nametag he was wearing, saying, “Kaname-san, there’s a problem with Nagano-san. He seems to have fallen.”
The man perked up at this and ran into the room quickly, missing the smile the spirit gave him right before running off and out of the two story building they were in. Pausing outside, he looked for the tallest building he could find nearby and ran for it.
Once he reached the roof, he paused and stared off of the ledge. This would do. This would do very well. Walking back to the entrance, he faced the ledge and began running, yelling, “And to end my show!”
He leapt off the building, feeling the pull of gravity and the air rush past him. All too soon into the fall, Okada felt himself getting pulled away from the far reaches of his brain to the forefront, and soon the sensation of falling was all his own. The spirit had left, and the spirit had kept him aware the whole time, and all he felt was regret. Regret for those who had died, most of all, and as he fell, he muttered a small “sorry” as any tears possible rolled from his eyes, caught to join the sky from the wind around him.
---
A month later, a tall man in a trench coat and his dog entered the cemetery with arms full of flowers. Stopping at the one marked “Okada”, he stared at it before crouching down. Clutching the flowers to him, he cried and hid his head while doing so, only being comforted by the French bulldog with her front paws on his thighs.
Rating: R
Groups/Pairings: V6, Sakamoto/Okada
Word Count: 5917
Summary: The mullet spirit returns, and it is less than pleased with reality and feels revenge is in order, and that revenge is best fed by devastation.
Warnings: Character deaths, suicide, murder, spirits, some mutilation.
Notes: I have questioned my sanity often while writing this, but I still went along with it, and I’d like to thank my beta for the encouragement I received. Anyway, if you don’t like your idols dying then I would say not to read. Anyway, to anyone this disturbs, I’m terribly sorry, I just like this kind of shit. Enjoy~
“You cast me away!” The words had plagued Okada all day with how much anger and spite they contained. They’d come from his dream the night before, when they spilled from the mouth of his younger self. His younger self, that looked strangely like he had during the shoot for Feel Your Breeze. Holding his bag from the convenience store down the street where he’d been dropped off after his filming, he began scratching his left elbow a bit as he thought about it. He felt ridiculous that he even had a black fedora charmed against spirits in the first place, but it wasn’t so ridiculous that it helped him feel secure, was it? He was just glad nothing had happened during filming.
Turning to his apartment block, he was too pre-occupied to notice the woman walking towards him. He walked straight into her, and he mumbled an apology and reached to make sure the hat was still there. He went on and locked himself into his apartment. There was no real reason to leave.
---
The next morning he woke up with a groan. Even though he hadn’t had a dream, which he realized was because the fedora had stayed on his head, it was less than a good sleep. For the first few hours he’d been waking up every so often with fear in his heart that the hat had come off, until the final three hours where exhaustion had taken enough of a toll that he could no longer, no matter how hard he tried, stay awake or wake up often enough.
Rolling off the hammock he’s fallen asleep on, he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like absolute crap. Running his hands over his face, he trudged over to the sink. There was only recording today. Surely he didn’t have to be immaculate for this. In the end, he wound up only washing his face and brushing his teeth outside of his change of clothes. Making sure his dog, Satsuma had enough food; he tightly fixed the fedora to his head and grabbed his bag as he went to meet his ride.
---
He was the first one of the day to have a recording session, so he relaxed around the recording crew. It was better to not let anyone on to anything bothering him. Then he’d have to answer a whole slew of unnecessary questions, and while he knew them all, none of them were tuned into him enough that they could see anything under the surface, and besides, it was still early morning.
It was a few hours later when his session ended for the day. He wasn’t the only one scheduled for that day, though he did have the longest slot, with it being one of his days off from filming. Looking out to the couch, he spied Sakamoto sitting, reading. He was the next to record, and Okada planned on hanging around for it. They were going to eat afterwards. Walking out of the sound booth, he sat down on the couch to listen back.
Satisfied, he grinned and said, “Thank you for your hard work.”
Morimoto, who was in charge of the sound recording, nodded and said the same to Okada. He then turned to Sakamoto and said, “We just have to reset, and then we’ll be ready to go.”
Sakamoto looked up and said, “Thank you,” with a smile as he and Okada watched Morimoto roll off to the other side.
“So, what are you recording for today?” Okada asked, poking him with his toe.
Sakamoto looked at him from the corner of his eyes, and sighing, handed him what he’d been looking over. When it had been taken from him, he sat back and observed Okada reading.
“Oh, you’re recording your next solo today?” Okada remarked. “What kind of song is it going to be?”
“You know you can just read it to find out? Right?” Sakamoto said as he shook his head.
Okada, grinning at him, poked him with his foot again, saying, “I know, but I’d rather you explain it to me.”
“I see. Well, you’re just going to have to wait and see,” he said, rubbing Okada’s shoulder a bit. With a bit of a pat though, he looked at Morimoto gesturing at him to go over. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s recording time.”
Okada smiled as he watched him go before leaning over and grabbing the book he’d brought along. Stretching out on the couch, he began reading, though it was not long before he fell asleep.
---
It was a couple of hours later when Sakamoto woke Okada up. It was time for their planned lunch, which, after taking in Okada’s appearance, ended up being a lunch at Sakamoto’s place. Homemade pancakes to be exact, as they were quick and easy.
Setting down the finished plates on the tables, Sakamoto looked Okada over before digging in. “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Okada only looked at him surprised. He was a successful actor and no one at the recording had noticed, but then again, they had known each other for over fifteen years now. Sighing, he poked at his pancakes a little and mumbled, “I didn’t sleep very well last night is all.” Finally taking a bite, he finished with a, “Delicious.”
Sakamoto eyed him and took another bite before saying, “I see. Is there a reason or have you just been working too hard?”
“No, not really work.” Okada decided to pause there and continue to eat until he couldn’t hear the sound of eating across from him. Smiling to himself, he said, “It’s just because of a bad dream. You worry too much.”
“I don’t, and I really hope you’re going to take off that hat.” Sakamoto said, shaking his head before he continued to eat.
Okada chuckled a tiny bit before looking at him and saying, “Nope.”
There ended up being no response to that, and even through the dishes he said nothing. It wasn’t until an hour into their respective reading time on the couch (it was Okada’s idea at first and Sakamoto wasn’t adverse to the silence, although often enough it became Okada’s reading time and Sakamoto’s baseball watching time) that Sakamoto looked up from what he was doing to say something.
“Seriously, you’re indoors. Take it off.”
“Nope.” Okada said with a grin, “Not going to happen.”
“Fine then…” Sakamoto said as he looked back at his book with a frustrated expression. He flipped his page harshly, and then a couple more until he lunged at the hat, which he missed due to Okada rolling off the couch.
Okada looked at him, amused, before backing off a bit more. “You are far too slow, old man.”
Sakamoto just rolled his eyes and smiled as he said, “Better a wise old man than a kid with no manners.”
Okada scoffed and returned to his book. Neither of them moved for what had to have been five minutes before Okada broke the silence with a, “I’m still not taking the hat off,” which in turn caused Sakamoto to sputter a little from amusement.
---
It was that night, while they were tucked away in bed, that the unfortunate happened, and as soon as it did, Okada knew. Even though he was asleep, he knew the hat, which he had convinced Sakamoto he did indeed need to wear to bed with promises and bribery, had come off of his head.
The signs were all there, and the most glaring sign of all was the image of himself from the days of Feel Your Breeze that was standing before him. An image that looked less than pleased with him, giving him the coldest and most evil grin his face could possibly muster.
“So, you thought you could keep me away?” The voice didn’t match the face at all.
“Well, I had hoped. I should have gotten a monk…” Okada was mentally kicking himself. There were steps to taking care of spirits, but did he pay attention to them? No, not this time, not when it really mattered, though it wasn’t like this could possibly be life or death. It was a spirit of the mullet after all.
The wrong-voiced Okada started pacing, almost staring at Okada in a feral way. “So, you do know what happens to spirits who wait, right?” He sneered, “they become spiteful as they deteriorate. Thinking, wishing even, for the happier times they could have had.”
Okada stared at the spirit with wide eyes as it paced back and forth, before suddenly going still. Still, aside from its head, which turned to stare at Okada with a deadly gaze.
“We were in love!” it shouted from where it stood, shoulders moving quickly with the breaths it was taking.
Okada only stared in disbelief. That wasn’t exactly how he remembered it, but it was definitely a far more peaceful time, when they lived in harmony, but he wasn’t too sure it was love. Was it love?
“He took you away from me.” The spirit stepped closer as he spoke. “And he should really pay for his crimes.”
Okada stepped back and put up his hands as he said, “Hold on! He took me away from you?” He really couldn’t believe what the spirit was saying, “I’m not the one who latched onto the other here.”
The spirit stopped moving as he said, “Oh, but he did.” He continued on his path to Okada after regaining himself. “And now he’s going to pay.”
Grabbing onto the collar of Okada’s shirt, he placed his hand on Okada’s face. At this point, Okada knew he’s lost all reason as he felt himself spiraling to the smallest corner of his mind. The corner where he was only aware of the paces his body would be going through, but was in no way in control of it. The spirit was most certainly out for revenge, and he had regressed enough that rage was all that was left in him.
---
Once the events in the dream world were finished, Okada’s physical form snapped its eyes open as the spirit turned his head slowly to look at the man sleeping beside him. Grinning, he pulled aside the covers and looked to the alarm clock. It was only quarter after five in the morning. A perfect time to start revenge, the spirit thought. The reason why it did though was because of the access he had to Okada’s memories. Possession had its uses, even if it was to just gain information from someone. Either way, the spirit grinned to himself as he cast one last look to the sleeping form. It was time for revenge.
---
The spirit sat at the golf course, quietly, in the bushes. It was most certainly Go’s golf day if Okada’s memory was anything to go by. He’d gotten there around six, though he’d hidden so he wasn’t recognized at all. That would be bad and ruin the finale, really.
He twirled the knife he’d taken from Sakamoto’s kitchen on the way out in his gloved hands. He wasn’t a stupid spirit after all, and apparently Okada knew a thing or two about the human body. It was almost as if he’d had a level up while the spirit was locked away.
Looking out, he saw a small man approaching the ninth hole. It was most definitely Go that approached. Standing up and slipping the knife away so that Go couldn’t see it, the spirit went to where he was setting up.
“Go! You’re golfing today?”
Startled, Go turned around to look at him. Puzzled, he said, “What are you doing here at this time of day?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go golfing, but I was taking a break under the trees when I saw you come up.” He turned slightly to acknowledge the bushes from where he came.
Go looked at him in a quizzical manner before turning back to finish setting up. “If you’d like, we could finish together. Go grab your clubs.”
As Go said this, the spirit had started to eye to bag beside Go. The club was an all more tempting weapon, and a fun one at that. Knives were so last year, and so he shuffled closer to the bag, eying up the nine iron. He then said, “I’ll go get them in a moment. You may as well go.”
Go just nodded and lined his shot up as the spirit began to slide the nine iron out of the golf bag. Watching as Go swung his club, he lined up his shot as well. Baseball formation was really improper with a golf club, but damn, if it wasn’t exactly what he needed.
As Go watched his ball sail down the fairway, the spirit swung and connected right at the base of his skull, and as Go began falling, paralyzed, he swung again, this time striking the side of Go’s head. A dull crack could be heard. Go fell to the ground, and the spirit continued to swing, the next few hits smashing in the back of his skull with the clear crack of bone seeming to shatter. Sometimes early morning golf can be a good thing, if not just for the lack of witnesses.
Once Go’s face was unrecognizable, he threw the club aside and brought out the knife. Carefully he removed the finger with the tattoo, a trophy so to speak, and it would work well as a threat.
---
When the spirit returned to Sakamoto’s place, he was glad to see him asleep. This made his plan run much smoother. Looking at his hands, he decided a shower would probably be in order, if the blood was anything to go by. Turning around and heading to the shower, he made sure to grab a towel carefully before remembering the finger in his pocket. It wouldn’t stay so well in there, so he went to the kitchen and found a bag and some ice. Putting the finger and ice into the bag, he set it in the fridge and headed back to have his shower.
As he stood in the shower and watched as the blood slowly ran into the drain, he grinned. He had this planned out relatively carefully. Sure, his revenge wasn’t purely against Sakamoto, but it was much more fun to hurt the one who loves and competes for that special person’s attention. He knew he was hurting Okada in the long run, but that was okay to him after all the time locked away, and besides, he was going to make that all better soon enough.
When he was done and dressed, he walked around the kitchen, looking at the knives. He’d already put back the one he’d used, exactly as it was when he returned, and there were so many other choices of knives he could use. Going through them all, his eyes eventually fell to the tuna knife. It didn’t look overly used, and it definitely looked like it could hurt something. Picking it up, he examined it, taking the flexibility and blade into account. Satisfied, he walked to the bedroom. It was time to wake up the sleeping beauty.
Sidling up to the bed, he tucked the knife in the back of his so that he still had use of two hands. Brushing back some hair from Sakamoto’s face, he leaned down and whispered, “Maa-kun, time to get up.”
The reaction he received wasn’t a very happy one, as Sakamoto turned his face away from him and tried to roll away a bit. The spirit was having none of that, and whined, “Maa-kun,” again as he started to poke his cheek. It worked, as Sakamoto cracked open an eye, purely for the art of side-eyeing him, trying to stop him. The spirit didn’t stop, and kept going until a croaking sound was heard, and so the spirit looked at him and asked, “What? What was that?”
Sakamoto, now with both eyes open, rolled his eyes and propped himself up as he said, “I said, what? What do you need?”
“I need to go home.” He stood up a bit straighter to continue, “and I’d love it if you’d drive me there.”
Sakamoto sat up more and leaned forward so he wasn’t using his hands to prop himself up. With his voice still croaking, he said, “I suppose I can. Especially now that you’ve taken off the hat.” He swung his legs off the bed as the spirit walked away to the door, backwards. “Just let me get ready.”
It was a few minutes later when Sakamoto eventually appeared dressed and with glasses. The spirit looked at him and smiled, grabbing his bag, which he had placed the finger and knife in. He headed to the door and opened it, singing, “After you.”
Sakamoto just eyed him as he walked by. Someone clearly woke up happy or something.
---
It was still early morning when they reached Okada’s apartment. Sakamoto went up after being invited. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to drive back just yet, anyway.
Sakamoto was mostly humming to himself as he made some coffee for the two of them. It was the first thing he’d found in Okada’s cupboard, and it was a bit too early for life that day, but he really need to get the guy some tea. Because of this, he didn’t notice the other body coming up behind him until the tuna knife was to his throat.
“I’m going to ask you very kindly, Maa-kun, to bend down and open the doors to under the sink,” said the spirit.
Sakamoto froze. Out of all the things in life that he expected to happen, this was definitely not one of them. Shaking out of it, he did exactly what was instructed as he eyed the knife, a knife he was almost certain was his own. When he opened the doors, he heard the click of the handcuff going around his right wrist. The spirit was moving quickly, as his hand was soon jerked towards the piping and attached with the other cuff.
The spirit leaned back, keeping the knife trained on Sakamoto as he looked at the things in the cupboard. Some of this could actually hurt his vessel, which would be really counterproductive. Grabbing one of the bags kept under there, he placed everything in it as quickly as he could with one hand and slid it across the floor. Satisfied, he smiled at Sakamoto and left him sitting there as he walked over to the bag he’d brought back home.
The spirit set the knife beside the bag as he reached in, coming out with the finger on ice. Taking it to Sakamoto, he held the finger so that the tattoo could be clearly seen by him.
“Okada, what the hell are you doing?” said Sakamoto, his face full of rage and concern.
The spirit laughed as he clutched the finger away to place it in the fridge. “Oh, nothing much. Just something I should have done a long time ago.” Closing the fridge with finesse, he smirked at him. “And the news won’t be out for another couple of hours, so…” Okada said this and then walked over to the bag and knife.
Once he’d placed the knife in the bag, he turned around and his eyes landed on the coffee that was done. He felt Sakamoto’s glare on him the whole time as he grabbed the first mug and filled it with coffee. Crouching down, he set it down beside Sakamoto and patted him on the head, saying, “Anyway, I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up for me.”
He then grabbed his bag and Sakamoto’s vehicle keys that had been set near the door and left with a soft click of the door.
---
Parking on a residential street, the spirit climbed out of the vehicle. It was nice that Okada had group members that were very strict on their schedules. Walking along the sidewalk, he grasped the bag a little tighter with a strange buzz of excitement. The next victim should be along any moment, and the fact that it was daylight in the middle of a populated area was extremely exciting, although the amount of people out and about at the moment wasn’t very high at all. Most were probably at work. He needed to find a place to wait.
Eventually he found a nice shaded area to sit down near the edge of the path. Removing the knife from the bag, he set it down next to him and shifted the bag to cover it just enough that it wouldn’t be too horribly noticeable. Waiting wasn’t too difficult; he’d done his fair share after all.
It was around fifteen minutes later when a recognisable man started to approach him along the path. Grabbing the knife, he crouched over to a slightly covered area, and as the man passed, he swung the blade and struck the back of his ankles. Ken staggered for a few seconds before going down. Once he was down, the spirit grabbed his calf and dragged the man to where he was, flipping him over once he was close enough. He revelled in the look of fear on Ken’s face, and his expression of pure speechlessness. Holding his finger to his lips, he smiled.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ken yelled.
The spirit’s smile only grew more as he drew the knife from beside him to a backhand formation saying, “Oh, nothing much, just out for a little,” he swung and sliced his neck, “revenge of sorts.”
He fished the keys for Sakamoto’s car out of his pocket and threw them beside Ken’s body. Removing his sweater, he rolled the knife up in it and mixed his gloves in with it. Strolling over to his bag, he stuffed it in and walked down the street casually, catching a cab a few blocks over.
---
The scene the spirit returned to was amusing to him. Satsuma, the missing in action dog, had been found, and best of all, was keeping his victim company. Setting the bag down, just out of Sakamoto’s reach, he went to grab a towel.
When he made his return to the kitchen, he smiled his best smile at Sakamoto as he approached him.
“Why are you doing this, Okada?” Sakamoto asked with an angry voice.
Satsuma, becoming aware of the approaching man stood up and began snapping at the spirit, backing away.
“Apparently even Satsuma-chan doesn’t want to be around you, which is unusual to say the least…” Sakamoto looked at the man who was now looking him right in the eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”
The spirit only grinned at him as he picked up the coffee mug sitting on the floor before walking back to his bag. Satsuma took this moment to return to the man on the floor as she eyed the spirit carefully.
“Oh, for a reason, but I think it’s okay to not say it.” He pulled out the sweater from his bag and began to unroll it, “Although, you could ask Ken-chan.” Pulling out the knife, he looked at it thoughtfully for a moment before breaking out into a laugh. “On second thought, I don’t think you’ll be getting an answer out of him today.”
Sakamoto stared at him with wide eyes and he cleaned the knife with the towel. Gathering Satsuma in his arm, he looked at the dog for a moment before looking back at Okada, saying, “You’ve gone insane.”
The spirit’s eyes only grew wider, much like his smile, as he continued to clean the knife until a good portion of the blood was off of it. “Perhaps, but at least I’ll be available when it matters,” he said, inspecting the blade. Satisfied, he put on his best impersonation of how Okada usually acted and turned to Sakamoto. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and get ready for the emergency meeting that should be happening.”
---
It was about two hours later when the emergency meeting was called. The spirit was careful to take the call where it would be silent, and quickly headed off once the location was decided. He drove to the meeting, taking the tuna knife and setting it on the back seat, as well as a paring knife, which he pocketed with a small guard on.
As he walked into the meeting he was met with the grim faces of Inocchi and Nagano. Sitting down, he looked them both in the eyes before settling on Okada’s hands.
“Have you been able to get a hold of Sakamoto-san?” Inocchi said, addressing them both, who only shook their heads in response. “I see… Hopefully we can get a hold of him soon.”
Nagano nodded and then began talking as well. “Okada-kun, Inocchi and I were talking, and we agreed nothing would be said until the press conference.”
The spirit nodded, still looking at Okada’s hands. “I see. The news hasn’t been released as of yet, has it?”
“No, it hasn’t,” Nagano said. “They’re still trying to figure out what exactly happened to the two of them. For now, we’ve decided to go with announcing their passing only until we have more information.”
Inocchi then said, “We’ve also decided to follow through with the album, but only if that’s all right with you and Sakamoto-san.” Inocchi quickly glanced at Nagano with a concerned face. “That is, if we can find Sakamoto-san.”
The spirit only nodded, eyes still not moving up. Sitting still for a few moments, he muttered an, “I understand.” Which was then followed with him saying, “I think I’m going to go home for now.”
Pushing back his chair, he stood up and bowed slightly. Inocchi and Nagano exchanged looks for a split second before Inocchi stood up as well, saying, “I’m going to come with you. It’s not good to be alone.”
The spirit looked at him and smiled softly. “Thank you, Inocchi.” He said, right before turning around and smiling an ugly smile of anticipation.
---
Inocchi knew something was wrong a few minutes into the car ride. Okada had missed any possible turns to get to his home easily, and seemed to almost be heading out of the area.
“If you don’t mind my asking, where exactly are we going?” Inocchi looked at him a bit worried.
The spirit perked up at this and threw on his best surprised face. Quickly glancing at the man in the passenger’s seat, he said, “Oh, I thought we could go to the beach first.” He paused as he changed lanes. “It seems like a nice send off for them.”
Inocchi nodded as he thought about it. “That makes sense.”
The spirit smiled and the car was filled with silence for the rest of the ride. When they finally reached the beach, Inocchi headed to the sand first. The spirit on the other hand went and retrieved the tuna knife from the boot.
Walking behind Inocchi, he tried his best to hide the massive knife as he went to catch up. When he did, he grabbed the back of the collar of Inocchi’s jacket, as he slid the knife to settle in front of Inocchi’s Adam’s apple. Applying pressure to the back of his neck, Inocchi kneeled, and the spirit came up behind him, Inocchi’s back on his body as he popped his head round to be able to look at his face a bit better, again, with the ugly smile of pure joy on his face.
“I bet you never saw this coming,” he whispered into Inocchi’s ear, pulling the paring knife from his pocket and sliding the guard off the best that he could.
Inocchi looked at him from the corners of his eyes. He really didn’t see that coming, and if anything, that really scared him about as much as this situation right now. He didn’t even know what to say.
The paring knife flashed before Inocchi’s eyes as the spirit said, “Now, you’re not smiling at all right now.” He let out what seemed to be a frustrated sigh. “Which is unfortunate. You’re far more beautiful with a smile.”
The spirit brought the paring knife to the left edge of Inocchi’s lips, and digging in, he dragged it up to make it look like half of a smile. For the left side, Inocchi yelled for the first few moments, but for the right, as Okada did the exact same thing, he did nothing but breathe in sharply. The pain even opening his mouth caused at the moment was close to unbearable. He kept his eyes a trained as he could on the knives before him, until the paring knife disappeared from view, although the sound that followed added up to it being thrown.
“Now, Inocchi, that’s much, much better, and I’m sure death would love to see your beautiful grin.” Taking the knife, the spirit sliced open Inocchi’s throat and pushed him into the sand, watching the substance begin to almost soak up the blood.
---
After standing at the beach for a few more moments, the spirit had decided to head back to Okada’s apartment. It was still strangely quiet, his victim still cuffed to the pipe under the sink. Why wasn’t he fighting? No, he was if his wrist was anything to go by. It was beginning to bleed slowly from the strain, specifically from rotating and attempting to break free.
“You know, you guys are extremely easy to take out,” said the spirit, the only response being a glare from Sakamoto. “There’s a press conference tonight that absolutely no one is going to attend. You’ll probably still be tied up here, and three are already dead.”
That caused Sakamoto to react, as he yelled, “What?”
“Oh, yes. The smiling man, he’s gone now.” The spirit began running the tap in the washroom. When he was done, he turned to him and said, “Smiling forever in death, really. It’s almost creative in a way.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this at all,” Sakamoto said.
The spirit didn’t answer right away, as he wandered the house, getting the place in a bit of order. Fixing a pillow here, a book there. He did finally respond when he found himself standing in front of Sakamoto. Looking down, he said, “It’s because of you.”
Sakamoto’s face was a delight to the spirit, full of confusion, almost innocent in a way. In fact, it made him want to kick him in the face so much he did exactly that. He kept on kicking until blood was running down Sakamoto’s face. Only then was he satisfied as he kicked his head once more, slamming it into the edge of the cupboard doorway, knocking him out.
Huffing in pleasure, the spirit turned around and found himself facing a very angry French bulldog. The dog proceeded to tear into his leg, and he found himself kicking it off into a chair.
Satsuma slinked off to where Sakamoto was knocked out, choosing not to confront the spirit again, but growling whenever he was in view.
After getting cleaned up and ready for the conference, Okada left, taking a chef’s knife with him.
---
The spirit was extremely early for the press conference, and so he headed to their prepared waiting room. Taking out the chef’s knife, he started to twirl and spin it with his fingers as he stared. It was something to do, and Nagano wouldn’t be there for a little while, and so he waited.
It was about a half hour later when Nagano eventually shuffled inside, and the spirit, upon hearing the door click, hid the knife behind him on the chair. Touching his fingertips together, he brought them up to his mouth and stared at the door from the tops of his eyes.
“Ah! Okada-kun, you’re already here,” Nagano said to him with a small smile.
The spirit nodded at him, not saying anything as he observed him move from the door to a chair across the room from him.
“Have you heard anything from Sakamoto-kun? I haven’t been able to get a hold of him at all,” said Nagano, as he began fiddling with his phone a little. “Inocchi too. I haven’t talked to him since he left with you.”
The spirit nodded in understanding. “I haven’t been able to phone Sakamoto-san either, and the last I saw of Inocchi was when I was driving home and he came with me.”
Nagano nodded and sighed. He figured perhaps they were just busy, although that didn’t stop him from worrying. Flipping open his phone, he looked back down and began going through his contacts. It was this moment the spirit decided to strike.
Sitting up slowly, he kept his eyes on Nagano as he grabbed the knife. After that, he moved no less than quickly, jerking Nagano’s head up by the forehead and placing the knife to his throat. The spirit smiled as he dug in and sliced across it, taking in the look of fear upon Nagano’s face as he cut into the muscles and tendons, as well as part the bone of which lay directly beneath his jaw line.
Standing back for a moment, the spirit watched as Nagano’s arms fell to the side. Not quite satisfied, he shifted the knife in his fingers so the blade pointed down and slammed it into his chest, straight to the heart as he heard the cracking and snapping of bones and cartilage. He left the knife.
Looking around, he knew his plan was almost complete. Wiping his hands quickly, he ran out the door and looked at the man standing at the door, pausing. His eyes flickered to the nametag he was wearing, saying, “Kaname-san, there’s a problem with Nagano-san. He seems to have fallen.”
The man perked up at this and ran into the room quickly, missing the smile the spirit gave him right before running off and out of the two story building they were in. Pausing outside, he looked for the tallest building he could find nearby and ran for it.
Once he reached the roof, he paused and stared off of the ledge. This would do. This would do very well. Walking back to the entrance, he faced the ledge and began running, yelling, “And to end my show!”
He leapt off the building, feeling the pull of gravity and the air rush past him. All too soon into the fall, Okada felt himself getting pulled away from the far reaches of his brain to the forefront, and soon the sensation of falling was all his own. The spirit had left, and the spirit had kept him aware the whole time, and all he felt was regret. Regret for those who had died, most of all, and as he fell, he muttered a small “sorry” as any tears possible rolled from his eyes, caught to join the sky from the wind around him.
---
A month later, a tall man in a trench coat and his dog entered the cemetery with arms full of flowers. Stopping at the one marked “Okada”, he stared at it before crouching down. Clutching the flowers to him, he cried and hid his head while doing so, only being comforted by the French bulldog with her front paws on his thighs.